


Perfectly Obnoxious

by mee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Time, Growly Derek, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Talkative Stiles, Use of F-word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:44:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee/pseuds/mee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing stops Stiles talking and Derek really doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfectly Obnoxious

**Author's Note:**

> un-beta'd but posting now or I never will - very shy of posting!
> 
> Bit of silly fun, PWP but nothing explicit. I hope you like.

Stiles was perfectly obnoxious; his voice rambled on no matter what, even stuffed full the boy managed to moan and masticate and… He was impossible.

Derek paused to better watch him and he flailed in response, the wild litany never ceasing. Words poured from that large, filthy, gorgeous mouth, interspersed with loud guttural groans; all making about us much sense as the boy ever did.

‘Oh. My. God. Oh. My. Gawwwwwd. Fuck Derek. You’re a God. A fucking, God. A God of FUCKING. Fuck! Again, arrrrgh, more, oh yeah. You God. You... oh fuck! FUCK! Why haven’t we done this before? You’ve held out on me all this, FUCK, oh God, MY God. Derek Hale I worship yee. Yeeee-EEEESSSSSSs’

Derek couldn’t resist. The heat, the tight grip of Stiles’s body. Stiles filling his word with sound and scent and feelings. So many feelings. He’d resisted this for too long. Those long clever fingers dancing over his skin playing some secret rhythm. Stiles with his pithy sarcasm and too clever answers, eyes older than his years and mouth made for smirking.

‘Not. Your God.’ Derek gritted out ‘Your Alpha’ he ground down with his hips, supporting himself at full stretch of his arms, muscles flexing at the effort. ‘I. Am. Your. Alpha’  
He was rewarded by laughter. Stiles laughing with his whole body, the fingers that had worked their way into Derek’s hair tugging admonishment. Letting his head drop down Derek caught at Stiles’s pouty lower lip, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. Even then Stiles managed mumbly sounds, even as he kissed back, licking into Derek’s mouth, he gave raw mumbled encouragement.

And on it went.  
Stiles threw his head back and Derek growled, felt it ripped from him. Stiles; all slim pale strength laid out on cotton sheets. Most of the bedding was on the floor, had landed there moments after he’d thrown the boy onto the bed, arms and legs everywhere, a graceless mess of limbs reaching out all grabby hands, sparkling eyes. His eyes were dark now, shot through. Lost unfocused pools. Derek had chased the constellations of moles up Stiles’s torso with his tongue. Stiles earnest in his narration.

‘You’re trying to kill me aren’t you? All those threats, all those walls you threw me into. You’re going to actually literally kill me. My dad carries a gun, you know that right?’

Derek had glanced up over all the naked Stiles skin, eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

‘No. Yeah. Ix-nay on the Eriff-Shay. No one knows the Eriff-Shay here, not me!’  
‘Stiles.’ The low, calm voicing of his name stopped Stiles for the time it took his brain to realign. Given the joys of ADHD or simply Stiles being far too super smart for his own good, it took maybe half a breath. One fast beat of his hyer-bunny heart.

‘It was never your teeth. It was your tongue. Your sneaky clever tongue. You were never going to kill me with your teeth. Which in the interest of full disclosure I just want to point out starred in several very good wank sessions. Not the throat ripping you understand, but the AHH’  
The last a shout as Derek stopped licking to take a bite. Blunt teeth moving on all that lovely mole marred skin, leaving its own mark; a satisfying rosy claim bruising the start of Stiles’s happy trail. Stile’s cock already rosy and damp bobbed it’s own approval.

‘I’m going to die. You listening? I’m. Going. To. Die.’  
‘Only a little death’ Derek opined. ‘And several times by morning’

‘Jokes? Now? You find now a good time to develop a sense of humour Sourwolf? That’s just. For that you owe me orgasms. Lots of orgasms. No one is ever going to believe me when I tell them you tell jokes. Actual. Jokes.’  
‘You’re going to tell them? About this?’

‘Tell them? I’m going to send out postcards! I’m going to sing about it. People are going to write songs about me. Stiles Stilinski he lost his V. Is lost the right word there? Sounds forgetful. No. Stiles Stilinski he offered up his pesky V to an Alpha-God. Demanded he take it. The big bad Alpha Sourwolf aka Derek Hale. And boy did Derek Hale rise to the challenge.’ Stiles sent a cheeky look down their bodies. Derek had climbed up the bed a little as Stiles prattled on and yes, his erection was unmistakeable.

‘There’ll be odes written about me, sang by some weird dude with a Lute. I’ll be an internet sensation. The boy fucked by a God’  
‘Alpha. Glad to help, should I be checking for a camera?’

‘Camera? No camera, all this is mine’ This was indicated with a loose hand encompassing all that was Derek. ‘Oh yeah baby, The Stiles has gotten lucky. Is about to get even luckier. Had better be getting really, really lucky and all de-virginalised real soon. On with debauching Derek! Get to it Wolfie, this booty isn’t going to fuck itself!’

Stiles had the grace to blush at Derek’s sceptical look.

‘Soooooo, I may have experimented a little’  
‘A little?’ Derek scoffed ‘I’ve been in your room. I’m a Werewolf Stiles. Your room stinks’

‘Psfffh. I’m a teenager, it’s the smell of teen spirit. Not cool Derek. So not cool. And seriously? Seriously Derek? What do you expect? You have a mirror right? One of those glass things that reflect light and oh yeah, your image. You have seen yourself right? Oh my God. That stupid stubble and those stupid, stupid abs of yours. Are you allergic to shirts? And your arse Derek! Have you seen your arse? Your arse is a thing of beauty, it should be in a museum, a gallery, people would pay to come see your arse Derek. Oh my God, they’d bring offerings, they’d offer themselves. Hmm no. Not happening. Derek dat arse is mine. Find me a sharpie I’m gonna write my name all over it. Stiles’s. Stupid, stupid arse.’

‘So I’m stupid then?’ It was hard to think straight when Stiles’s hands were all over said arse squeezing and stroking. Fingers sliding to part the cheeks and tease at his hole. Stiles watching him carefully as he flicked the entrance, waiting despite all his bravado, even now expecting to be pushed away.  
‘Stupid’ breathed Stiles.  
‘Good to know’  
Derek kissed him. It was his only sure defence.

And now. Now here they were. Stiles spread like an offering, Derek braced above him, bodies straining together. Stiles’s knees up high as he can manage, ankles pressing tight against Derek’s stupid arse. And his mouth. That terrible, wonderful mouth; voice rising and falling and shouting and never stopping.

‘Gawwd Derek. Your stupid face and your stupid body and your stupid, perfect cock. I love your cock, we need to be doing this again and often. I need your cock Derek. Need it, more, harder, there, there, arrrrgh. YEESSSS’  
Stiles arched, his head back falling back on the pillow to bare that long column of throat, throat bobbing from his shout. Irresistible. Derek leaned down to rub his face in the curve, breathing deep to inhale all of the wonderful scent. Pure Stiles; all nervous energy, curly fries, anxiety and lust. MINE his wolf vowed, thrilling at the coupling, all mine. Derek nuzzled closer licking sweat salted skin and gripping with blunt teeth. Mine. Mine. Mine.  
‘Yours’ agreed Stiles, Derek hadn’t even realised he was saying it aloud.

‘Wait are you sniffing me Derek? Like a dog?’  
Derek swivelled his hips, pushing deep, right on target, so the next words were lost in a groan.  
Letting a growl swell up Derek felt Stiles shiver and bit out a curt ‘Woof’ snarling it into his neck and feeling Stiles’s whole body clench in response, squeezing Derek so tight his eyes crossed.

‘Knew you loved the dog jokes!’ Stiles crowed. His face flushed and breath ragged. Beautiful. Derek couldn’t decide whether to keep him talking or work at shutting him up. In the end he let his body dictate the pace, quitting the long slow slides and teasing withdrawals for a slamming home. A harsh frantic crash of hips, driving into the welcome of Stiles’s hot tight body, again and again, driving them both near insanity.

Stiles exploded wetly between them, body arched, legs keeping Derek close. One hand clawed at Derek’s back desperate enough to brand, the other was raised above his head, punching the air in triumph along with a deafening ‘YEEEEESSSSS!’

It didn’t take long for Derek to follow; one, two thrusts more, his wolf growling exaltation at filling his mate. Claiming him inside and out. The orgasm was so strong it drew the red shine of Derek’s beta form and he didn’t miss Stiles’s thrilled shudder at that detail. ‘Mate’ his wolf insisted curling within him. Proud and sated.

Stiles smelt better than ever, because now he smelt like Derek. Like Derek’s. Mate. Derek curled around him, pulling at Stiles until they were a tangle of limbs, offering only a quiet huff at Stiles’s soft chuckled ‘Snugglewolf!’

Waking to Stiles felt natural. Blinking open his eyes as his senses sharpened to the morning. For once he didn’t feel anxiety of another in his territory or the heavy kick of loss from the bonds burnt away. Derek stretched and turned his head to see to see a smirking Stiles. He looked right in Derek’s bed, like he belonged there. And far too wake and smug considering their active night. Though in truth Derek liked the smug.

Ignoring morning breath to steal a quick kiss Derek strode to the bathroom for a wash cloth. The mirror explained the smirk. Being a werewolf meant all scratches and bites from the night vanished quickly from his skin but Stiles being Stiles had gone one better. Black sharpie lingered. Bold possessive print across both his arse cheeks declared –Stiles’s-

‘STILES’ Derek snarled, full of Alpha power; Stiles just grinned from where he was still sprawled on the bed; naked, messy, smelling of Derek. Thoroughly debauched. A pen danced between his long nimble fingers. It was only fitting that Derek stalk back to the bed and demand Stiles make good his claim, to both their satisfaction.


End file.
